


Not All Dentists Are Sadistic

by goddesswan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Memory Loss, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 06:06:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10299278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddesswan/pseuds/goddesswan
Summary: Based off the video of a man waking up from surgery and not recognizing his wife.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A sequel of sorts to [Fight Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10184666)

Killian has nobody to blame but himself for the situation he’s in.

Emma always knew that he had a bit of a sweet tooth. Whenever they went out to restaurants, he would always order dessert and a trip to the movies usually required multiple forms of candy. “You can’t expect me to watch a film without things salty and sweet, Swan. That’s _unjust_.”

She thought it was endearing, at first, especially when he made it a point to bring her treats as well. What girl doesn’t enjoy a boyfriend who gifts her with chocolate?

She didn’t realize, though, until they moved in together, how bad his sweet tooth actually was.

Their cabinets are always stocked with sugary cereals, cookies, Little Debbie snacks, and whatever British confections he could get his hands on at World Market. She’s constantly finding his treats hidden around the apartment. And grocery shopping with him is worse than with Henry. She always has to keep a watchful eye on what he puts in the cart and must limit him to only a certain amount of sugar loaded items per trip.

Maybe, it wouldn’t bother her so much if he weren’t such a terrible influence on Henry. “Just let the lad have some ice cream, love,” he would say. Or, “A slice of chocolate cake won’t harm him.”

He worked in a hospital for god’s sake. He of all people should know the negative effects a slice of chocolate cake will have on a boy. But he insists on promoting his bad, sugar loving habits onto others.

Killian’s nibbling on a red and blue strip of rocky candy when he first notices the pain. He yelps and drops the stick (a blasphemous act.) She asks if he’s ok but he waves her off saying that he must have simply bitten down too hard.

It gets worse after that, though. He complains of tooth pain when he eats, shies away from heat and cold due to sensitivity, and his gums being to swell.

He’s sitting on the couch, rubbing his jaw when she decides to confront him.

“You need to go to the dentist,” she tells him, plopping down in his lap and putting her hand over his.

“I hate those wankers,” he grumbles, leaning his face out of her touch. “They’re sadistic, the whole lot of them, the way they stab and drill around in people’s mouths for fun.”

She barks out a surprised laugh. Mr. Tough Guy is afraid of the dentist.

“Killian, you’re a nurse,” she points out, trying to suppress her giggles. “You poke people in the arm with needles for a living.”

“My job is a bit more complicated than that, love,” he huffs and rolls his stupidly blue eyes.

“Look, it’s only going to get worse and I’d prefer it if I could make out with you and not have you pull away in pain. So, could you please go get yourself checked out, for me,” she pleads and tucks her head into the crook of his shoulder, nuzzling for added effect. She knows full well that he can’t resist her when she asks for something genuinely and grins in triumph when he sighs in resignation.

“Ok, Swan,” he consents and wraps his arm around her waist, tugging her closer and planting a kiss into her hair. “But only so that we can have more steamy kisses.”

—

It turns out that one of his teeth requires a root canal.

The dentist—a very nice, non-sadistic looking woman by the name of Aurora—tells Emma that the procedure usually takes around thirty to sixty minutes. She fiddles around on her phone and after about forty-five minutes a dental assistant comes out and tells her that Killian is waking up from the nitrous oxide. She informs her of how the procedure went and what to expect with his recovery (tenderness around the area and a sore jaw, over the counter pain medication to be taken for both) then, she leaves them alone.

The moments when she awakens before him in the morning, wrapped cozily in their blankets and tucked under his arm, are rare and she cherishes them greatly. The look he wears, a mixture of content and confusion, is always adorable and she loves to see the light of recognition in his eyes when he sees her lying beside him. His face, as she walks in the room now, is very similar and absolutely precious (a word that he would be displeased to hear directed at him)—bewildered and slightly punch drunk.

Emma sits down beside the reclined chair and smiles warmly at him.

“How are you feeling, sleepy head?”

“Did the doctor send you?” Killian asks, lazily waving his hand in her direction. His tongue comes out of his mouth as if to lick his lips but all he manages is to wiggle it oddly from one corner to the other. “Man, you are _eye candy._ ”

She furrows her brow and giggles confusedly.

“Whoa! You could be the prettiest woman I’ve ever seen,” he mumbles, running his fingers over his lips. _What kind of laughing gas did they give him?_ “Are you an angel?”

“Not quite,” she snorts, getting more confused by the second. “I’m gonna sit here with you.”

“Who are you?” he questions,  tilting his head and pointing his finger in her face. She bats it away and tucks his hand down by his side.

“My name’s Emma,” she explains slowly and watches his face as he absorbs the information. “I’m your girlfriend.”

His head snaps up, eyes growing wide, the irises overtaking the striking blue, and his mouth drops.

“You’re my girlfriend?” his voice croaks and he flops head back. “ _Bloody hell!_ ”

“Just relax,” she instructs him and brushes his hair off his forehead. “You’re waking up.”

Yes, precious is definitely the right word to describe him. Off his rocker, as he would say, but completely precious.

“Do we have children together?” he wonders, his brows rising into his hairline.

“No, but I do have a son and we all live together.”

He grins goofily at that.

“Oh man,” he drawls and then his eyes widen again as if he’s just realized something important. “Have we kissed yet?”

That makes her fall forward with laughter. Leave it up to Killian to be concerned with kissing. Complications with their kissing was the thing that finally convinced him to get his mouth examined in the first place.

He brings his hand back up to his lips but this time he puts his index finger in his mouth and pokes at the was cotton stuffed inside his cheek.

“Stop messing with your mouth,” she scolds pushes his arm down.

“Oh it’s hard, it’s hard, baby. Do we call each other baby? How long have we been dating?”

“A long time,” she says dryly, stopping him from firing off more questions.

“Oh my god I hit the jackpot!” he exclaims, bringing his hands to his temples and then flopping them down beside him.

His fingers begin to wander towards his mouth again so she pulls his hand into her lap and keeps it there with both of hers.

“That’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he murmurs, facing away from her, as if speaking to someone else. It makes her feel all sorts of fuzzy on the inside, her heart fluttering like the beat of a wild hummingbird’s wings, and she rubs her thumb along the meaty part of his palm.

She wants to throttle him for being so utterly charming all the time (for so utterly charming her all the time) even under the influence of some ridiculous drugs.

“Let me see your face,” he suddenly grunts, twisting his torso and using his free hand to grab at the air near her face. “Whoa, you’re cheekbones are stunning. Turn around.”

“I’m not turning around,” she snaps but there’s no real heat behind it. The command is so like him and she’s too entertained to actually be angry.

“ _We’re dating?_ When am I getting you a ring?”

She shrugs because she really doesn’t have an answer to that question.

“I must really love you,” he sighs, his lips pulling up gently and his eyes glowing.

It’s almost too much to bear and she silently thanks a god—any god really, Zeus, Neptune, whomever—when the dental assistant from before returns with paperwork to sign.

“He can eat as soon as the numbness wears off but not a moment before then so, he doesn’t do any damage to his cheeks or tongue,” the woman instructs and smiles at Killian as he does the weird tongue thing from before at her.

“Come on, Casanova,” Emma groans putting her fingers under his chin, gently scratching his hair, and pushes his jaw shut.

“My name is _Killian_ ,” he says, affronted. As if he hasn’t had zero recognition of her since he woke up.

She simply says, “Ok, Killian,” and proceeds to drag him out to the parking lot.

Two thoughts pop into her head as she helps him into the car: _I wished I’d gotten this on camera_ and _I can’t wait to tell Henry_.

—

Later that evening—when Henry returns home from school and her amnesiac is napping on the couch—she makes sure to tell her son, in great detail, the events of that day. And together, they make sure to never let Killian live it down.

—

Killian himself brings it up one month later and further ensures the story forever living on when he gets down on one knee and says “I’ll promise to never forget you if you promise to never threaten me bodily harm in my place of work.”


End file.
